


The Box Would be Empty

by capildissexy



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Pain, Star-crossed, Tearjerker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-09
Updated: 2015-11-09
Packaged: 2018-04-30 20:23:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5178398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/capildissexy/pseuds/capildissexy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Twelve/Clara discuss her mortality. Inspired by the heavy foreshadowing of Clara's life coming to an untimely end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Box Would be Empty

The Box Would be Empty

Clara blinked as the ceiling above her swam into focus.

Where was she? Everything was a bit muzzy. The last thing she remembered was being on a ship. With laser blasters? Yeah, blasters. Then pain sliced into her side as she moved. Clara hissed. She'd been hit by one. Clara vaguely remembered stepping in front of the Doctor as the guard opened fire on them….and then nothing.

Just blackness.

She glanced around…steel examination tables, a scratchy blue sheet on top of her. Clara was on the TARDIS, in the medi-bay. She looked beneath the linen to find a pink camisole and a pair of gray yoga pants. He must've gotten her out of her bloody clothing. Beneath the camisole she had a silvery bandage of some sort. He'd patched her up, too.

Then she heard the Doctor's guitar, floating down the hallway outside. He'd plugged the amp into the console, so the music could be heard all over the ship. He was singing and his voice was hoarse, scratchy with suppressed emotion.

He found it difficult to convey tender feelings and he'd taken to using songs to express himself. The Doctor let her in through music and she appreciated the cheat sheet. Accept when it tugged on her heartstrings, like this.

If I had a box just for wishes  
And dreams that had never come true  
The box would be empty  
Except for the memory  
Of how they were answered by you

Clara listened a moment, then determined the song was Time in a Bottle by Jim Croce. Oh no. The Doctor was in a maudlin mood and she didn't have to guess why. Lately, he'd been obsessed with her mortality. The accident had probably scared him. She could sense a row coming.

But there never seems to be enough time  
To do the things you want to do  
Once you find them  
I've looked around enough to know  
That you're the one I want to go  
Through time with

Suddenly the music stopped. He must know she's awake. Maybe he sensed her thoughts, or he'd set some sort of alert in the medi-bay. Clara sat up in bed and clutched her side. She was going to have to play through this. If she let him see the extent of the damage, he might not let her travel with him again. As it was, she felt like he was one accident away from wrapping her in bubble wrap and tucking her into his pocket for safekeeping.

The doors whooshed open and there he stood in his ridiculous tartan trousers with a ripped t-shirt that'd seen better days. There were circles beneath his eyes and he hadn't shaved. His hair was a mass of wild silver curls.

She noted two expressions warring on his face: relief and anger. Clara didn't know which she'd be on the receiving end of…

His brows drew together in a thick line. "You could've died," he said coldly.

Anger it is.

"But I didn't," Clara said. She slid off the bed and kept the pain from showing on her face. The steel floor was cold beneath her bare feet. Right now, she wanted to have a wash, maybe a cup of tea. Then, they'd take it easy for a while.

"Yes, because I saved you." He closed the distance between them, his fingers curled around her upper arms, fingers digging in. "You almost died." His eyes were red-rimmed, watery. He'd been crying.

Her heart twisted. She'd made him cry.

The Doctor continued on. "If I'd been one minute late materializing the TARDIS around us…or if one of the laser blasts had been an inch to the left it would've burned through your heart. You would've died in my arms and there isn't a damn thing I could've done to save you, despite the array of medical technology at my disposal. I can't fix death, Clara."

"I'm here. I'm alive. I'm fine, Doctor." He was acting as if he'd already lost her. Maybe in his mind, he already had. Hadn't she once said the universe must be populated with ghosts for him? Everyone was a ghost. 

He laughed and it was bitter and angry. Sad and discordant. Like glass breaking, nails on a chalkboard, a child's cries "Yes. Today. But what about tomorrow? Or the next day? Or the next? One day you won't be won't be fine, Clara Oswald. You won't be anything."

She shoved at his chest until he released her. "Don't do this, Doctor. Don't." Why did they have to dwell on this uglyness? She wanted to live her life, consequences be damned.

"One of us has to be sensible. And because you won't, I have to be. I don't get it, are you trying to die? Does your life mean so little to you, that you won't protect it?"

Clara sighed. "Don't do that. Don't make it sound like I've got a death wish. I really don't." Right after Danny's death it'd been touch and go for a while, but she'd bounced back. The Doctor had given her a reason to live again.

"You're mortal, Clara. Breakable. Fragile. You're not like me. You don't change, you won't come back." He began to pace the length of the room and Clara sensed he was working himself into a lather, becoming more and more distressed.

"I know," she said. "Can't we drop this? Look, we'll take it easy for a while, maybe go someplace fun. And safe. Like a concert or a museum."

"No. We're talking about this. Right now." He glared at her. "You're mortal, Clara. I don't think you realize that, or you wouldn't be so eager to sacrifice yourself. While we're on the subject, don't you dare risk yourself for me again. Not ever. Promise me." He stopped directly in front of her, eyes blazing blue fire.

Clara wrapped her arms around herself. "I can't do that. That's who I am, Doctor. The Impossible Girl. I was born to save the Doctor. Remember?"

"Born to die, you mean…" he said gruffly.

She winced. "Yes, human beings are fragile. We're born, we live, and then we die. That's how it works, Doctor."

"Yes, that's how it works, but it doesn't mean you have to run into death's arms."

She blew out a breath. "March 5, 2005."

He blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"The date my mother died. That's when I realized my own mortality. I made peace with it long ago. One day I'm going to die."

Clara had the realization at an early age and death didn't scare her the way it did other people. It was a fact of…well, life. "What's the worst that could happen? I die and then I see my mother and Danny again. That doesn't sound so bad to me. So it's okay, Doctor. It really is." Clara wasn't about to let fear control her, not anymore. She intended to make each day count because it might very well be her last.

He acted as though she'd verbally slapped him. "No, it's not." He slid a palm down his face. "For you, it's okay maybe, but not for me."

"What?" Clara frowned.

"You'll die and you'll be with your loved ones. But what about me?!" he asked. He got closer, looming over her. Once again, his eyes were watery, red. She could see behind the curtain a little…the fear fueling the anger. "Have you thought about what happens to me after you die?"

Tears filled her eyes. She didn't want to cause him pain. "Oh, Doctor…"

Clara hadn't contemplated his point of view. She'd figured he'd had dozens of companions. And since no one lived as long as he did…well, death was inevitable. Yes, he'd be sad, he'd mourn for her. But he'd move on. He always did.

"Don't!" he said holding up a hand. "Never sacrifice yourself for me again, Clara."

"But…"

"No arguments," he gritted out. "Do as you're told."

They glared at one another for a long time.

"I don't take orders, Doctor, and I refuse to make that promise." Clara raised her chin, daring him to contradict her.

"Then you'll never travel with me again." He crossed his arms over his chest. She'd never seen him more firm about something.

This was a standoff. A stalemate.

"Doctor!"

"Clara, don't you realize how precious you are to me? How important?" he asked.

"Doctor, I'm one boring little human in the universe. I'm not even remotely important…not like you are. The universe needs you. I've always known that."

And she'd stepped in front of him without question. She was disposable, he wasn't.

"And what about what I need? What about that, huh? Have you ever through about that, you stupid…beautiful…fragile little mayfly?"

The tension in the room smoked…smoldered…than caught fire.

"What do you need?" she asked, voice hushed.

"You, Clara Oswald. Always you."

Clara opened her mouth to argue, but he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. It was a hard, punishing kiss and it shook her to the core. She melted into him, their mouths melded. She clutched at his lapels, pulling him down into her embrace and the Doctor hauled her closer. They were pressed against one another and it was still too far away.

This kiss had been burning between them for years.

And when he finally released her, she knew what his ire really about. Oh, God. How stupid could she be? How could she not have seen? "You're in love with me."

The Doctor didn't try to hide the tears then. They fell down his cheeks. He didn't answer her, either but he didn't have to. She could see it in his eyes. Love shone there, bright and burning. They'd danced around these feelings for years.

And she'd loved him too. Was in love with him from the start when he'd shown up at her door in that stupid monk outfit. Yet Clara had pushed him away, kept him at arm's length. Figured it'd end badly, painfully for them both.

And she was right. Their relationship would only end in tears. A mayfly had flirted with a mountain range. It was impossible. They were impossible.

"I can't save you, Clara. No matter what I do. And I've thought about." He stared at the floor. "Oh, I've thought about it. These days, I'm obsessed."

"Don't…."

But he didn't stop. "Traveling with me is dangerous. Every day we outrun death, but we can't do it forever. One day it'll catch up and death will snatch you from me." He shook his head. "You aren't safe on earth either. Car accidents, medical problems, extreme temperatures, violence, or you could trip over your own bloody feet one day you'd be gone." He snapped his fingers. "Like that. And the irony is, if you manage to survive all those mortal dangers, you'll die of old age anyway. Death always wins."

Clara sucked in a shuddering breath.

"Unless I save you. Like I saved Alshidr."

She backed away from him. "Don't you dare. I don't want to live forever, Doctor. We're not meant to."

"But…"

"Think about it, Doctor. You said, she turned harsher, colder. Her humanity dimmed throughout the years. It would happen to me too."

"You don't know that…"

"Yes, I do," Clara said. "And so do you. We're a lot alike, Doctor. I'd lose myself, I'd lose that spark. And you wouldn't want to travel with me anymore, anyway. You need a mayfly, not another mountain range. You need someone to ground you, to keep you in the now. You'd lose me, just in a different way."

The Doctor didn't deny the truth of her words. "It isn't fair. I'm a Lord of Time, but I can't manage to stop it marching on….not when it comes to you."

"I believe you've said that life isn't fair, Doctor. And death isn't either. I learned that lesson a long time ago."

And so they stared at one another. A few feet separated them, but it might as well be light years. The chasm was too great to ever cross.

"So what do we do?" Clara asked.

The Doctor tried to smile and it looked like a fracture on his face. "Keep calm? Carry on? Isn't that what you people say?"

Clara sighed.

He placed a hand over his hearts. "One day, Clara Oswald, this big blue box will be empty without you and I won't be able to bear it. So please…for my sake, be more careful. Don't make it so easy for death."

"I promise."

He exhaled. "Okay then. You said something about a museum, yeah? Some place safe."

"Some place safe," Clara echoed.

And together, they walked to the control room. Clara knew she was living on borrowed time. There were only so many safe places in the universe.

Sooner or later, death would come for her. And there was nothing either one of them could do about it.

**Author's Note:**

> I drew inspiration from Time in a Bottle by Jim Croce. The song is so Whouffaldi it isn't funny. Have a listen: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fyTfbtZeGeU


End file.
